His habit of enticing her with hints while refusing to give a straight answer made her want to punch something. Her world had just been shattered, and the mage had answers he didn’t care to share. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about—not when he had mind-blowing magic on his side.
A hot tear spilled down her cheek. “Can’t you just answer my questions? What do you know about me? And why are the Brotherhood hunting me down? You and I both know I can’t be a mage if I’ve never chanted a single spell.”
He reached down, lifting her hand. At the touch of his strong hands, she felt a brief thrill from his magical aura, and it surged through her body like a jolt of electricity. What was that?
“Keep this ring on and stay away from the Brotherhood. You’ll be fine.” His gray eyes met hers. “Don’t trust anyone. Not Orcus. Not me. Not your best friends. No one. That’s all you need to know.” He turned to leave.
Don’t trust a bloodthirsty mage or the grim reaper standing behind me? Gee, you don’t say. His evasiveness infuriated her. “Are you coming back here?”
“No.”
“Where are you going?”
“You don’t need to know that. Stay with Orcus.” It was hard to ignore the ring of command in his voice.
Just like a goddamn mage to leave her question unanswered.
As she stood there like an idiot, he slipped into the cemetery’s shadows. My one chance at the truth—gone.
“Come with me.” Orcus’s gravelly voice made her jump, and she nearly staked him. There was no way in hell she wanted to go into Abduxiel Mansion with Crypt Guy.
Scary as Caine was, at least he was human, and a hood didn’t obscure his face.
His particularly stunning face.
The way she saw it, there were two options right now. Either the Brotherhood had made a mistake, or Caine had created this whole thing as an illusion. A cool breeze slipped over her skin, and she shivered.
What if Caine had glamoured demons to come for her? What if Longshanks and Fridge had been reapers spelled to appear human—
No. Magic didn’t work in the confines of Thorndike’s buildings. Plus, Caine had a point. If he wanted to control her, he could hypnotize her to do whatever he wanted.
Still, her heart clung to the possibility that this was all some sort of mistake. She pulled out her cell phone, and a message flashed from Josiah.
Where are you?
While Orcus cleared his throat, she frantically typed a message back to her Guardian.
Why are the Brotherhood after me? They say I’m a witch. I saw Randolph Loring. Did he come for me??
“Miss.” Orcus touched her arm, his fingers cold and bony. “You must come inside.”
She jerked her arm away from his touch, staring intently at her screen until a message popped up from Josiah.
Someone accused you of witchcraft. I don’t know who. You must stay hidden until I can fix this. Don’t use your phone again. I will find you. Lux in tenebris lucet.
The Brotherhood would track her phone. Panic clenched her heart. Even Josiah wanted her to run. Perfect, loyal Josiah, completely faithful to the Brotherhood, thought she should flee from the Hunters. He knew that once the Brotherhood had their sights set on a target, they didn’t give second chances—no explanations, no trials, no pardons.
At least her Guardian stood by her.
She swiped open another message—this one from Tammi, who’d been texting her from a campus party.
Ros where r u… I’m getting drukeus I lost one of my shoes…
Good. At least the Purifiers hadn’t involved her.
Rosalind hammered out another message.
Tammi—things have gotten weird with the Brotherhood. Josiah and I will sort it out. I’m OK, but I’ll be offline for a while. Speak soon. XO
She shut off her phone, steeling herself for a night with Crypt Guy.
She turned, but she couldn’t force herself to follow Orcus. In fact, there was no freaking way she was sealing herself up in a gothic mansion while Caine slipped off with her secrets. He’d implied her English roots were a lie, and then refused to explain. He’d known that the Brotherhood would come for her, but wouldn’t say why.
He was the only person who had the answers she needed, and she would wrench them out of him if her life depended on it. Which it does, come to think of it.
Her entire world had just shattered, and she wasn’t giving up on the remaining fragments without a fight.
She turned to the cleric. “I’m not coming in. I have more questions for Caine.”
“You will come with me, Miss,” he hissed, grabbing her arm.
A swift elbow to the jaw sent him sprawling in the chapel doorway, and she launched into a sprint over the grass, thundering up a grassy hill.
She wove through weeping stone angels and crooked obelisks, the gravestones jutting from the ground at odd angles like broken bones.
She tore past a row of stone crypts, and down a gently sloping hill. But she was running blindly, and had lost all trace of Caine. He’d slipped somewhere deep into the cemetery’s shadows. She ground to a halt near a gently rippling pond, trying to attune her senses to the delicious tingling of Caine’s magic.